Psychological Warfare
by Deep Red
Summary: Harry gets a lesson in playground warfare and turns from victim into a Lord. Grey possibly Dark Harry
1. Chapter 1

**Psychological Warfare**

**Summary:** Harry gets a lesson in playground warfare and turns from victim into a Lord. Grey possibly Dark Harry

**Rating**: PG (For now)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters found within the books pages belong to J. K. Rowling. The rest of us merely worship her greatness.

As a reader you should know this is probably just a oneshot to get my juices going again before I dive back into my long awaited second chapter of Grandpa Dursley and the Schooling of Harry Potter, its possible that I might continue this but I'd feel heartless if I didn't mention that my other story must take precedence.

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Officer Laurence T. Panera would never be able to say what made him notice the little five year old standing in front of Stonewall Primary, the local elementary school for Surrey and the neighboring township. Later, he'll think about how the boy stood by himself in a sea of proud parents, all of whom were giving proud hugs and kisses upon their little ones, ushering them inside for their very first day of school. He'd think about how the little boy quietly followed a long-necked woman and her whining son, his green eyes hoping that this time he too would receive the hugs and words of praise that fell so easily out of the woman's mouth.

But because he did notice the dark-haired boy he saw the instant when hope died in those bright green eyes, the moment that the boy accepted that he'd never have a mother's kiss, her proud little hugs, he saw when the boy lost the innocence that comes with youth and something darker take its place. The kind of dark that doesn't appear from one misplaced kiss the kind that comes from touching death, the kind of death he'd seen in murder's eyes…and its survivors.

He didn't see the boy again until late that following day. The kindergarden teachers liked to introduce him to their classes in those first days, have him give his speech about not talking to strangers to tell them as a voice of authority to always approach an adult if they have a problem. Most of the kids would nod their heads solemnly and assure him that they would do the right thing. On the playground later he'd be sure to see a group of boys playing cops and robbers all of whom would want to be the policemen. But, in this class this little group of four and five year olds one little boy did not nod, he did not promise to speak to an adult. Little Harry Potter stared at him with those bright green eyes laughing silently, laughed at the officer's naivety.

God, how he wanted to pull him aside right then and there and demand to know who killed the light in his eyes, who made him loose all hope. But he didn't. He went to the next classroom and talked to them about strangers, speaking to adults, watching kids nod their heads solemnly, and then he patrolled the school and its grounds because that was his job, because he wasn't paid to see death in little bright green eyes.

It was several weeks before he saw the boy again and by that time he was already being teases about his clothes, his mushy peanut butter sandwiches, and the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Little Harry Potter never cried and he never went to any type of adult.

He took the pushes and harsh words of his peers like he expected them, like they were ordinary and to him, perhaps they were. Seeing that little boy taking it on the chin day after day made Officer Laurence T. Panera forget that he was merely bidding his time until retirement, made he remember why he first became a policeman. He was supposed to protect the innocent not turn his back on them. And he wanted to help this little boy with his bright green eyes so empty of hope.

The next day he was waiting on the playground for the other boys to start chasing little Harry Potter. It was like watching a pack of wild dogs chasing down a deer. Harry was obviously faster but the sheer number of the boys chasing him was bound to wear him down. And when he weaved a little too close to the largest boy Officer Panera was there to pick him back up.

"That was some amazing running." The Officer smiled his voice parting the boys enough that he was able to help Harry up. "We need to get you a football, with speed like that you could be playing for Manchester United." He grinned patting Harry on the back.

The boys who had been shifting guiltily at his presence now stared at Harry in awe. Because this man, an authority, said that Harry Potter was fast, because he said that he could play for Manchester United and that was, in the eyes of all the Surrey boys, the greatest team to _ever_ play the game. And every boy staring at little Harry Potter wanted nothing more than to be him. They forgot about his nasty old clothes and soggy lunches, to them he was the coolest kid in school maybe even the whole world.

That is to all but one boy.

Little Dudley Dursley, who really wasn't so little, didn't like how his friends suddenly started to crowd around his cousin.

"He can't play football!" He screamed, stomping his overlarge foot. "He's just a freak with a stupid scar!" He knew that would make his friends listen to him now, his dad always said that and his dad was _important_.

Except, they didn't listen.

Instead the big policeman laughed at Dudley and soon all the other boys were laughing too.

"You know Harry, that scar sure looks like a lightning bolt to me." He waved the other kids over, "Don't you think boys? Must be how he got to be so fast." He smiled as the boys nodded in agreement each bemoaning the fact that they didn't have a cool scar like Harry's. The recess bell rang calling an end to their fun and the big officer stepped back, "Bolt, you and your friends better head in." He gave another one of his big grins patting Harry on the back before turning to look at Dudley. "Oh, you should probably follow Bolt and his friends inside too."

And Dudley Dursley had to watch as his friends followed Harry inside, listen to them call him Bolt like he was important, like he was somebody special and not him. He didn't like being on the outside with no friends.

Later, when it was time to color everyone crowded around Harry, they drew picture of him and no one wanted to talk to Dudley. No one sat at his table and told him how great his pictures were. No one wanted to be his friend, all because he called his cousin, the football star, a freak.

He didn't like it at all.

When they got home Dudley broke his mother's favorite vase and blamed Harry. He laughed when Harry was sent to his cupboard without supper. It made him happy, he knew that everything was how it was supposed to be and he was sure that tomorrow all of his friends would like him again.

The next day he was sure things were back to normal. Piers sat beside in class and even helped him color his picture of his house. But on the playground things didn't seem so great after all. He saw the policeman talking to Harry again but it didn't matter because some of the other boys shouted for him to play and he was positive everything was how it was supposed to be.

That is until Harry joined.

Dudley could never be sure how it happened but first one boy called him slow, then another fat, until they were all pushing him around calling him a football as they kicked him. They were all laughing at him, everyone that is except for Harry. He was watching, watching and smiling.

"Hey guys," Harry called, "the bells about to ring." Harry was staring at him, that twisted smile still on his face, and he knew the only reason they stopped was because of Harry. He never realized Harry was also the reason it started.

Piers didn't sit with him after recess; he wouldn't even look at him. He was too busy trying to get his chair added to Harry's already crowed table. Dudley couldn't hear what Harry asked Piers but he heard his response.

"No way!" He shouted. "I'd never be friends with that lardball."

Dudley knew Piers was talking about him. He didn't notice Harry allowing Piers to sit with him afterwards; he was too blinded by his tears.

After school Dudley stayed in his room playing with his toys. And at dinner when his Mum allowed Harry to have the remaining scone he never said a word, not even when Harry accidentally spilled some of his water.

Back at school he drew a picture of Harry during art. Harry even said it was good. Harry's friends even agreed, because even if they didn't think so if Harry said it then it had to be true. They didn't push Dudley on the playground that day. So Dudley decided to draw more pictures of Harry hoping he would like them too.

At home he helped Harry do the dishes without being asked, Harry even thanked him. And the next day no one called him fat or pushed him at recess. He liked that. He helped Harry weed the garden after that; he even admitted to his Mum that he was the one to pulled pulled a flower out by mistake.

However, Dudley's newfound accountability wasn't to last. The next week he broke the VCR. He didn't mean to, he knew better than to use it by himself, but it was an accident and he didn't want to get in trouble. He told his parents he saw Harry break it.

That was the last time he'd blame Harry for anything, and he'd never play dodgeball again either.

Months went by following in the same pattern and then it was finally time for the dreaded parent/teacher conferences. The Dursley's found out about Dudley getting teased and pushed on the playground, his teacher told them that if it wasn't for Harry it might even have gotten worse. They were told how wonderful a job they must be doing to have two such bright boys, so willing to stand up for each other.

Harry got his own room after that, his dad even patted him on the back and let them both choose their own ice cream cones for a treat. Vernon even bragged to the neighbors about what good kids he had, even if Harry's parents were no good layabouts. Dudley was proud to, he liked it when people realized that Harry and him were related, he just wished they were really brothers, maybe even twins like the Bruggle brothers down the street cause that would be really cool.

He even convinced his Mum to buy Harry new clothes. Dudley didn't think Harry should have to wear his old things. Harry said they slowed him down when he ran and he certainly didn't want to be the cause of that. Even better was that the day Harry went to school in his new things he let Dudley sit at his table. Not next to him of course, in fact he had to sit at the far end but it was Harry's table and Piers even helped him color that day.

Dudley liked that and he knew it was only Harry that could make it happen. He knew Harry would protect him from the other boys. That it was because of him that he wasn't teased or pushed on the playground anymore. Dudley never realized that it was Harry, Harry and an Officer waiting for retirement that changed his world around, that changed the would be bully into a victim and gave a little boy with a scar his first lesson in warfare.

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Whew. Hope you guys enjoyed it. It was a little different from my usual style and by the end of it I was actually feeling kinda bad for Dudley…go figure. I'd love to hear your responses and ideas if I should continue something of this nature.


	2. Chapter 2

**Psychological Warfare**

**Summary:** Harry gets a lesson in playground warfare and turns from victim into a Lord. Grey possibly Dark Harry

**Rating:** PG (for the moment at least)

**Disclaimer:** Harry Potter and all characters found within the books pages belong to J. K. Rowling. The rest of us merely worship her greatness.

**To the Reader:**

You know, this story began as only a one-shot to get my juices going as I worked on the second chapter of Grandpa Dursley and the Schooling of Harry Potter but for whatever reason every time I tried to work on it I kept getting ideas for this. So even though Grandpa Dursley is still my priority (although there are times when I can't stand even thinking about it) I felt I had to get this out before I could do any decent amount of work of the other story. After much feedback this will continue to be written as a series of one-shots from different and often uncommon POVs as Harry's story progresses. I hope everyone enjoys it since this wouldn't even be happening if you guys hadn't displayed an interest to see it continued. Sorry its a bit shorter than the previous chapter but I figure something was better than nothing and I hit a stopping point for this chapter.

Please Enjoy!

Deep Red

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**Chapter 2**

**One Big, Happy Family**

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Vernon Dursley was not the smartest of men however; he made up for it by sheer hard work. He was the youngest manager Grunnings Drill Company had ever produced and although he wasn't particularly liked, his urge to brag often saw to that, he was well respected. That respect wasn't left at the office either. Throughout his neighborhood home in Surrey people would go out of their way to speak to him and often the other wives in the area whispered how they wished their husband would lavish affection on them like Vernon did with his wife Petunia and their two boys, Dudley and Harry. They were even more amazed since Harry wasn't even their biological son but their nephew. But that never seemed to matter to Vernon, why the neighbors would see him playing with the boys every Sunday in the park and he was always talking about how bright they were, how very close the two boys were.

And Vernon wasn't the only one to notice their closeness either. Petunia Dursley never expected to be grateful that little Harry Potter was left on her doorstep, but ever since the boys started school she found herself more than thankful. Her little Duddykins was being bullied at school but her sister's son defended him, took him under his wing and protected him from the other kids. Oh, she was a bit wary at first, especially with how Dudley began to look up to Harry but as her nephew had yet to display any of that unnaturalness that possessed her sister she decided that her son's needs came before any fear she might have and so she allowed their closeness to continue and in fact helped it along.

Why when Vernon started talking about sending her sweetums to Smeltings she actually brought up the possibility of sending Harry there as well. Of course, the cost of sending both boys there would make things a little tight around the house but she reminded Vernon about how protective Harry was of her Duddy and how if both boys went they would never have to worry that their son would be bullied at the school as Vernon had in his youth. So even if they had to take far fewer vacations throughout the years and purchase a few less presents at birthdays and Christmases they decided that it was best for Dudley to have his cousin with him at his future school.

Why even the boys themselves were a wonderful help in their plan. Well, Harry was a wonderful dear about it all and with his influence it only took a few years for Dudley to stop counting and comparing his gift numbers each holiday, which all things considered was quite nice.

Vernon wasn't around as much when the boys were younger, as he was determined to provide a good living for her and their son, so he wouldn't remember how…difficult… their Duddy could be at times but Petunia certainly did. She also remembered how he began to change, becoming much more manageable after the boys started school. Now, at the time she didn't know her poor Dinky Duddydums was being bullied and if she had known she would have put an immediate stop to it but she couldn't help, in her heart of hearts, acknowledge how much happier she was after Harry stepped in to help her boy.

It was quite fortunate for the fragile balance in the Dursley household that Harry's accidental magic always had an explanation. You see Harry realized at an early age, in fact the very day a group of boys followed him into his school from the playground calling him Bolt, that being good at sports was a way to be protected. In fact, for the attention starved boy the slaps on the back and cheers he received after he scored a goal in football meant the world for him; you could even say it became a need. So if during a big game he was a little faster than most, if perhaps the ball tended to move in unexpected ways when scoring, people assumed he was just that good, they thought they were seeing a star in the making. And Vernon and Petunia Dursley who knew magic was real, who should have realized that his skill wasn't quite natural, were happy to ignore the fact as they enjoyed the other parents crowding around them, congratulating them after Harry's games just as much as he did.

So it was with a great deal of emotion, and more than a bit of trepidation, that when a letter arrived addressed to Harry a week before his eleventh birthday Vernon and Petunia Dursley were more than a bit bothered by it. They had, in all their planning conveniently forgotten that Harry would receive his Hogwarts invitation that summer. Perhaps it shows just how clever Harry was that he could cause such monumental forgetfulness or perhaps it was that insidious magic Petunia was always afraid of but the moment the hated Hogwarts letter was in her hands she wanted nothing more than to hide her nephew away in their cupboard and hope the magical world would forget about him.

It was unfortunate that her hasty plan of ripping the letter apart and hiding it in the trash didn't stop the next from arriving the following morning or the next one after that. And as more owls found there way to number four Privet Drive, causing more than a few questions and stares from their neighbors, she reluctantly admitted defeat and sent her sister's son to fetch some paper to write his acceptance letter.

Harry, who had realized many years before the delicate manipulation required to survive in the Dursley household knew it would be far better if he stuck to his original plan and went to Smeltings like his Uncle Vernon wanted him too. In fact, after knowing his intended destination for some years Harry had written a good many letters to previous alumni and faculty to make sure he would be well received in the school. And he had to admit he was rather annoyed all his hard work and careful manipulations would be wasted now he was slated to go to Hogwarts. Of course, that annoyance disappeared entirely when he finally got his hands his invitation and learned that Hogwarts was in fact not some backwards husbandry school but a school for Magic. And he, like his parents before him, was a wizard. After that he was quite happy to write to Professor McGonagall with both his acceptance and a few questions for the prestigious school.

These questions, so innocently written, sent the usually composed professor storming to the Headmasters office with a few questions of her own and a rather heated demand that she be allowed to reintroduce Mr. Potter to the Wizarding World. The said demand became even more heated when the twinkling eyed Headmaster assured her that Rubeus Hagrid the groundskeeper for Hogwarts would do a more than adequate job of showing young Harry around. The words Minerva McGonagall uttered after that brand of hogwash caused no fewer than seven of the previous headmaster's portraits to threaten her mouth with a well placed _silencio_. But in the end the threats and even the Headmaster brief choking on his lemondrop was more than worth it as the fierce professor cleared her schedule for the following day to include a visit to the famous Harry Potter.

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please review

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